


Watching

by Literal_Antique_Trash



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Ford is a creep, M/M, Stanley is oblivious, trash can't do tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literal_Antique_Trash/pseuds/Literal_Antique_Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford loved Stanley.</p>
<p>He really, really loved Stanley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

He is moaning, stroking himself as he watches Stanley sleep, taking in the peaceful features with joy. He is lying on his side, gone to the world and into the land of dreams. Stanley was beautiful; in every way. Soft from his stomach and dusted with light, coarse hairs on his arms and legs. His fingers curled into his pillow in a loose grip, bring it closer and sighing softly. His chest rises and falls with each slow exhale as his mouth hangs open, snores that could rival the sound of a chainsaw passing through plump lips. Long eyelashes fan closed eyelids, fluttering every so often as he dreams. Stanford can't help but run a finger over the square jaw, feeling the baby fat that clung nicely to Stanley's cheeks. 

Stanford wonders what Stanley is dreaming about- if it's about him. 

Stanley had changed so much over the years. Stanford remembered when he'd just been a skinny child who'd managed to knock his own tooth out. He'd been confused at that time, torn between brotherly affection and something that made butterflies gather in his stomach, fluttering at the sight of a mere smile. 

And try as he might, Stanford could not figure out why his heart flipped and his stomach dropped whenever Stanley looked at him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why heat pooled in his gut when they wrestled and the blush would grow on his cheeks as Stan's soft body would touch his. He didn't understand why he focused on the features of Stanley's face, categorizing every mole and blemish or smile and laugh. He didn't know why the thought of what Stanley's lips felt like passed his thoughts on a regular basis. 

It was incest. Sexual relations between persons who are so closely related that their marriage is illegal or forbidden by custom. Stanford had found the word in a book, looking it up and frowning at the meaning. Is that what he had felt for Stanley? Did he… love his brother, like that? In a way that was illegal? Frowned upon by society? 

The answer had leant towards the positive sign when he got home and saw Stanley lying on his bed in nothing but his underwear. 

It had only worsened, he noticed as they grow older and Stanley grew more attractive in Stanford's eyes. But with this came darker, perverse thoughts. He loved Stanley- fully and completely. He'd fallen deep, deeply in love with Stanley Pines and couldn't complain a bit. 

He couldn't have anyone getting in his way. Stanley was his and Stanford would fight tooth and nail to keep it that way. They'd take him away, loving him in a way that Stanford himself could never do. They'd have his body, his heart- everything Stanford couldn't have. The thought was heartbreaking.

And so he lied, interfering at any and all times Stanley decided to pursue another. It had started simply, telling Stanley that they had made plans or suggesting they go work on the Stan o' War. Warmth fluttered in his chest when Stanley would smile, agreeing as he threw his arm around Stanford's shoulders. It bloomed even further as Stanley laughed, helping him scramble up the old wooden boat, his hand planted firmly on his back. 

As they grew, it started to get a little more complicated. Telling the girls that Stanley had changed his mind, making them cry with his harsh tone and cold eyes. Stanley would return home, confused and upset, but all too willing to let himself be cradled and comforted by his twin. He kept the feeling of Stanley's body against his own in the back of his mind, savoring the sound of his name being whimpered sadly. The smell of Stanley's hair- vanilla and the ocean- in his nose as he tucked his head under Stanford's chin. The way he'd shakily told Stanford he loved him, saying he was the best brother he could ever have. 

It is enough to have him moaning quietly for more, sliding his thumb over the swollen head of his cock and imagining that it was Stanley who had his hand there, not his own. That it was Stanley who willingly and eagerly got down on his knees, smirking as he sucked the tip of Stanford's cock past his plump, pink lips. 

It is with little shame and unadulterated ecstasy that Stanford comes into his hand, the image of Stanley's smirking face floating in his mind. Sighing a bit, he kisses Stanley's head, letting his come covered hand rest on the other's stomach. He rubs it in, a pleased hum growing deep in his throat. Stanley smiles slightly, snuggling deep into his pillows and falling into a heavier sleep. 

“Goodnight Stanley.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
